


Spring Soldier

by khorybannefin



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes Has Issues, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Fluff, Gen, Marvel Universe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:02:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25039702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/khorybannefin/pseuds/khorybannefin
Summary: Bucky is trying to learn how to be "human" again. He meets with middling success.
Kudos: 1





	Spring Soldier

Spring Soldier

Cast: Bucky Barnes

Author: khorybannefin

Author Gender: Female

Summary: Bucky is back from the dead. Now what does he do?

A/N: This was a request fic, which is why it isn’t written like my reader inserts. It may turn into something different later, but for now you get to follow Bucky through his modern adjustment.

His name was Bucky Barnes. He knew that now. His memory was fragmented and too much of it was violent and bloody. He’d been the Winter Soldier for decades, getting his memory erased every time his knowledge became inconvenient. Steve had saved him from that, but he wasn’t sure that was a good thing.

Steve Rogers, Captain America. He couldn’t believe his friend had survived so long. He’d gone to the American History museum in Washington, D.C. and read everything, listened to the speeches. Some of it jogged memories and some of it was as though it had happened to a stranger. It was disconcerting to read his own life on a wall and not recognize half of it.

Never mind that he was now cut adrift in a modern society he had no relation to. He was also concerned that his cybernetic enhancements would draw the attention of too many organizations. He already knew S.H.I.E.L.D. wanted to get ahold of him, and there was no telling how many others, good and bad. He was determined not to be owned by another consortium and used. He would be his own man, whoever that turned out to be.

He very quickly learned to cover up and conceal the arm. But he had no skills to speak of. His strength was the only marketable thing he could use to get a job and make money. He settled for construction work. He spent all day in long sleeved shirts and high work gloves. His hair under the hardhat concealed his face. He changed his name to Robert Ton. It had been the name of a kid he’d known growing up. All day he lifted and hauled. Everyone seemed impressed by his strength, and his work ethic. Something he’d already noticed about this time was that everyone seemed to have a completely unjustified sense of entitlement. The time he was from you worked for things. You earned it. He wouldn’t give that ideal up, whether or not anyone else appreciated it.

He went home each night with cash in his pocket. He’d rented a room in the Bronx. It wasn’t even close to good, but it was cheap. And why did he care what condition it was in? He only went there to shower and sleep, if the nightmares would let him. He spoke to no one, made no friends. He just didn’t know how to relate to anyone anymore. He wanted to. He wanted to feel human, normal, again, but there was so much to learn, it was overwhelming.

He’d been told repeatedly that he needed a cellular phone, what was referred to as a “smartphone”. It seemed that communication anymore was not personal. No one wrote letters anymore, or even called on the phone much. It was all “texting”. It was like holding a small television that would send its own telegraph. It was alienating. It was also unbelievably rude. He watched people walk down the street. No one looked at each other, heads down looking at the screen. Even in public places. Restaurants and grocery stores, people didn’t even look up hardly to even pay. He couldn’t believe anyone could sit across from a pretty girl and not even look at her. But he got the phone anyway.

Discovering the internet changed his entire world. Google was absolute magic. You could ask it anything and it would flood you with sources to answer your questions. Time after time when he got home from work he would kill the battery on the device just looking things up. History, science, popular culture, all of it was available. The accumulated knowledge of mankind in a piece of electronics the size of a wallet. The more he learned the more comfortable he began to become. He thought he might be able to hold a conversation with people. Whether they’d look up from their phones long enough to have said conversation was another question.

You’d think he’d have sense enough to choose the guys at work to talk to first. He related more to men, especially his co-workers. It didn’t turn out that way. See, there was a girl. She worked delivery at the sandwich place down the street from the site he was working. She’d come to deliver sandwiches to the guys. She was always cheerful, a smile for everyone, even for him. She tried so hard to engage him. He didn’t think he’d said more than “thank you” in the time she’d been coming. But sometimes she would turn her head to the side, trying to look at him under his hair. She called him Stranger and would tease him about talking. So of course she was the first person he said anything to do. He remembered being good with girls back when. But, different times. He couldn’t rely on his memory. So he started new.

“Hey, Stranger,” she smiled, handing him his sandwich. “Going to talk to me today?”

“I might,” he said softly. She stopped, eyes wide, and then broke into the sunniest smile he could remember seeing.

“There you are! I knew you had it in you.” She narrowed her eyes playfully and put her fists on her hips. “The question is what made you do it today?”

He couldn’t really answer that question. He was smiling though. A small smile that he tried to hide by lowering his head. She wasn’t letting him get away with that, not today. She stepped closer bending to meet his eyes.

“Oh no you don’t,” she teased. “I see you smiling under there. If I can’t get an explanation then the least you can do is introduce yourself. Or shall I just keep calling you Stranger?”

“Robert,” he said, still speaking low. “My name is Robert.” He offered his hand, the human one, which she took. He raised her hand to his lips and brushed a ghost of a kiss across her knuckles as she introduced herself as well.

“And I’m Amy. Nice to meet you, Robert. An old-fashioned flirt aren’t you?” She was smiling at the way he’d kissed her hand. He’d done it on automatic. When she pointed it out though he remembered that men didn’t do that anymore. He played it off with a shrug.

“Seemed appropriate.” He was pretty sure he was crushing his sandwich in an effort to not shake. This was the most human personal interaction he’d had since Steve broke through his brainwashing. He was starting to get overly nervous. Thankfully Amy had to cut it short.

“Well Robert I have to get back to work. See you tomorrow!” She gave him that brilliant smile again and flipped her hair as she turned, walking lightly down the sidewalk back towards the deli. He watched her go, looking too long. The foreman gave a shout.

“Hey, Rob! Quit staring and get back to work.” He sighed, and went back to hauling beams, but he had that sunny smile in his head. Maybe tomorrow he’d get to talk about something important. Maybe.


End file.
